


An Abridged Family Medical Guide, 6th Edition

by 30degreesandsnowing



Series: An Abridged Family Medical Guide, 6th Edition [1]
Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kandreil are playing for the same pro team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7807486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30degreesandsnowing/pseuds/30degreesandsnowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon as Kevin realized there was a stomach bug going around the locker room, he started force feeding Neil and Andrew vitamins. It worked out about as well as you could expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Andrew

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the darling Syd for betaing this monster! When I say they saved this from a confusing mass of run-on sentences and bad grammar, I'm really not joking.

It was December in Colorado and the city was on its knees before one of the nastiest winter bugs suffered in years. The Paladins didn’t worry too much about it; the last time a team member had caught a cold was back during the ‘00s. Nothing suggested a head cold (even a major head cold that had half the city's schools closing early) would break that streak.

Unfortunately, prior performance did not guarantee future results. Goettner started it, falling ill after his daughter was sent home from daycare. Within days, the rest of the team started to succumb. The team doctor sent the infected ones home, made sure the healthy ones were mainlining vitamins, and advised that everyone should just be happy this happened before the spring season started. No one was amused. Four of Goettner’s teammates deliberately sneezed on his uniform the Thursday after he returned to practice.

The Day-Josten-Minyard household actually took the longest to fall ill. At the first hint of a cough in the locker room, Kevin had started all three of them on a strict regime of vitamins, orange juice, and early bedtimes. It almost worked. Then Andrew, taking Kevin's input into his diet about as well as he ever did, mutinied by eating an entire cake for dinner while he marathoned old episodes of _Extreme Makeover: Home Edition_ all night. Two days later, he was banished from the court after he fell asleep in the goal. 

Andrew would have found it funnier, except it was not on purpose, his head was pounding, and his bones felt like they were trying to break free from the muscle around them. 

Kevin and Neil's worried gazes followed him off the court. Andrew saluted them flippantly, if unsteadily, and went to the locker room to change and get his keys. After he got his armor off, Andrew sat down on the bench by his locker to take a rest before attempting to untie his shoes. He admitted, not out loud, and only in the vaguest of terms, that he might have been feeling a little bit off, and he could probably do with a nap. 

Back on court, Kevin had walked over to Neil, his helmet mostly hiding his frown. He said, "I told him so," because he could not help himself. 

Neil punched him in the arm. 

Kevin had been expecting that, so he moved on. "We'll need to get a cab home, since we all rode in together. We should pick up some groceries, too. More ibuprofen, I think we're getting low." His mind whirred through the effects of Andrew going home sick, mapping out the problem of transportation and what food was in the house and the likelihood of Neil and himself now catching the bug.

Neil said, "I'll go to the store. If you go, you'll bring home vegetables and shit and we won't get him to eat at all. Try and make him one of your terrible smoothies. He'll be more willing to eat what I bring home if he's already had the chance to piss you off." 

Kevin scowled. "A pound of sugar will not help him get better any faster. We only have a month before playoffs start." 

Neil snickered. "I know you've seen his dietary plan. A doctor signed off on it and everything." 

"He threatened Komina," Kevin said. "I was there when he told her he'd break all her fingers if she tried to make him eat a single carrot." 

Kevin could sense Neil sticking his tongue out at him. Kevin flipped Neil off. Neil grabbed Kevin's fingers and squeezed, with as much gentleness as he could manage while wearing armored gauntlets.

When Kevin spoke again, his voice was deliberately casual. "Has Andrew ever been sick, before?" 

"You've known him longer than me," Neil said, because it was technically true, and Andrew had not gotten sick for the past nine years. 

"You've lived with him longer," Kevin replied, which was also technically true, but Kevin had lived with them for most of those years.

Neil sighed, and looked up at Kevin. Kevin's dark brows were furrowed, and Neil wished he could smooth those lines out with his fingers. Exy wasn't going to be as much fun with Andrew home, Neil trying not to worry, and Kevin compartmentalizing like he was 20 all over again. 

"We could ask Aaron," Neil suggested.

Kevin managed to look even unhappier.

Neil said quickly, "I dare you to be the one to call him," just as Coach blew his whistle and gestured at the two of them to break it up.

* * *

After practice, Kevin called Aaron in the elevator on his way up to the apartment. 

Aaron laughed for a full minute, got himself under control, and then burst into peals again the moment Kevin started to speak.

"Are you done?" Kevin asked, as the elevator doors opened to the 8th floor.

"For now," Aaron said, still snickering. "Is there a reason you called me to tell me Andrew has a cold? I have a two year old trying to paint the walls with broccoli."

At least Aaron knew the value of good dietary habits. "Has Andrew ever been sick before? How difficult is he going to be?"

Aaron snorted. Kevin privately admitted that the word choice was a bit unfortunate.

"Andrew's driving goal in life is to be difficult," Aaron said. "But other than withdrawal, I don't think he's been sick since I met him. You say he has whatever's going around Denver? It's just a cold. He might get a fever and chills, but don't worry about it unless his temperature goes over 103. I'm not seeing any reports of nausea or vomiting, so his esophagus is safe this time. Try and get him to drink fluids."

Kevin took mental notes. It matched what he and Neil had found online in the cab ride over, but you never could trust the internet. Neil had left his bag with Kevin, going straight the car so he could get to the corner store before it closed, and also so he wouldn’t be around when Kevin called Aaron. This conversation was going better than either of them had thought it would. Aaron sounded like he was actually trying to help; that was why Neil had told Kevin to call when both Katelyn and Aaron would be home.

"Alright," Kevin said. "Anything else?"

"Give him whatever the fuck he wants and try and stay out of his way," Aaron said. "He was a bitch to deal with on drugs, I can't imagine this is going to be any better."

"There’ll be less manic laughter while he threatens to crack open our ribs and rip out our lungs," Kevin said.

"I cannot believe he found two people who think that's romantic," Aaron said.

"Thanks, Aaron." Kevin ignored the comment. Aaron had taken Kevin and Andrew and Neil badly. This did not particularly bother Kevin or Neil. Andrew, on the other hand, had been not quite upset, but also not quite okay with another roadblock in his rocky relationship with his twin. Neil had promptly come up with a 10 step plan for getting Aaron over it. They were currently on step 6, and a mid-winter skiing trip was part of step 7. Neil's plans had gotten both much better and much worse since Andrew had started helping with them.

Sometimes they ran things by Kevin, who usually informed them they were being manipulative assholes (and Kevin had a great deal of experience with manipulative assholes) and that they were forgetting to plan for how contrary/difficult/observant their target was. Being accused of misjudging people would derail Andrew long enough for Kevin to distract them with food or Exy or sex.

"It's your funeral," Aaron said. "Don't call me again." Then he hung up.

That was the nicest Aaron had been to Kevin in two years. Maybe the 10 step plan was working. Kevin resolved never to tell Neil or Andrew, and unlocked the apartment door.

The front hall was filled with shadows when Kevin walked in and dropped their three duffel bags on the floor. He tried to stay quiet, just in case Andrew was sleeping. Then the cats came in to twine around his ankles, meowing loud enough to wake the dead. Kevin shushed them hurriedly. They refused to be shushed. Exasperated, Kevin padded into the kitchen to get them food so they would stop making so much noise. Neil claimed that the cats knew Kevin's limited patience got them food and treats the fastest, but Andrew was actually the worst culprit. Andrew liked to feed the cats scraps of whatever he was eating or cooking, but he also liked to pretend he couldn't remember the cats' names. 

Once the cats were happily settled, Kevin crept down the hall to the bedroom door. The door was cracked open, and what little light there was from the hall only illuminated the top of a golden head. Kevin pushed the door open farther. He made a mental note to find out what you were supposed to do to keep doors from squeaking so loudly. At the noise, Andrew rolled over then winced as the light hit him in the face. 

"Home already?" Andrew muttered. His voice was slurred from sleep and almost a whisper. Kevin catalogued the tension in his brows, the glassy blankness in his eyes, and the way his hair was sticking up all over the place. Andrew was curled up on Neil and Kevin's half of the bed instead of against the wall, and his cheek was smushed into Neil's pillow. 

Kevin said, "It's after 7," and entered the room. He pulled the door shut behind him to keep the cats out. There was a lamp on the dresser by the window, lower wattage than the overhead switch but brighter than the streetlights; Kevin flicked it on. 

Andrew made a soft noise that was definitely a whine, even though the thought of Andrew whining make Kevin's own head hurt. He buried his face deeper in the pillow. He said, "Turn that off before I make you," which was both muffled and heartening.

Kevin ignored the threat, and went into the bathroom to see if they had a thermometer. They did, in the well-stocked first aid kit that was Abby's housewarming gift for them. Kevin skimmed the instructions before taking it over to Andrew and brandishing it like a shield. Andrew tried to glare, but the effect was mitigated by his dull eyes and flushed cheeks. 

"Let me check your temperature and then I'll leave," Kevin promised. 

Andrew groaned and snatched the thermometer out of Kevin's hand. Then he scowled at the device. 

"What shit is this?" Andrew croaked. 

Kevin jotted 'sore throat' down on his mental symptoms checklist. "A digital ear thermometer. It's from Abby," he added as Andrew glowered. 

Andrew handed it back, and Kevin hovered his free hand over Andrew's jaw. 

"May I?" Kevin asked. 

Andrew said, "Yes," and Kevin turned Andrew's head so he could stick the thermometer in Andrew's ear. It clicked after a few seconds, and Kevin pulled it out to see the readout – 101.3. Kevin threw out the plastic sanitary cover and put the thermometer on the nightstand. 

"I'll get you some water," Kevin said, smoothing the covers over Andrew. "Do you need anything else?" 

Andrew shook his head and burrowed back into the pillows. Kevin switched off the light and started to leave, but Andrew made a soft sound. He turned back to the bed.

"Andrew?" Kevin asked. 

The room was now too dark to see properly, but Kevin could make out the shadows pooling around Andrew's hazy eyes, and the suggestion of a pout on his lips. Kevin wished Andrew was more like Neil, willing to be protected when weak, but he did not let himself dwell. Andrew's sharp edges were as much a part of him as Neil's incorrigible mouth or Kevin's logic. 

"I could eat," Andrew said. 

Kevin nodded. "Neil’s bringing home soup," he told Andrew. “Did you want to wait for him?”

“That’s fine,” Andrew said, closing his eyes.

Kevin slipped out and got him a glass of water. After a quick consultation with the internet, he added in a package of sugary graham crackers in case Andrew changed his mind about waiting for food. The internet actually suggested saltines or whole grain crackers, but Kevin figured Andrew might actually eat the graham crackers. It was a compromise. At least it wasn’t ice cream. 

Andrew stirred as soon as Kevin came back, hands snaking out of the blankets to take the water. Kevin ripped open the crackers and left the package in easy reach on the bedside table. He refilled the glass in the bathroom after Andrew downed it all at once. When Andrew made no move to drink again, he put it beside the crackers. Kevin watched Andrew for a long moment as Andrew fell into a light doze. He hoped Neil would be home soon.

Kevin turned to leave before the weight of his eyes would wake Andrew back up, but Andrew's hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. Andrew's fingers were weaker than his usual iron grip. Kevin thought that he could break free with a single step. Instead he turned back to the bed, and let Andrew tug him forward until Kevin was sitting next to him. 

Before Kevin could ask what Andrew needed, Andrew twisted and shoved until he had his head in Kevin's lap and his nose pressed into Kevin's stomach. Kevin sucked in a startled breath. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, Andrew's lashes sparkled gold against the red of his cheeks. Kevin felt every puff of breath Andrew took through the cotton of his shirt. They were soft against his abs. It was so unexpected and sweet that Kevin could not even form coherent thought.

‘Give him whatever the fuck he wants and stay out of his way,’ Aaron had said. They were mutually incompatible. Kevin reached out to touch Andrew, just to make sure this was real and let his hand hover an inch above Andrew's hair.

"Can I touch your head?" Kevin asked.

Andrew nodded, then cleared his throat painfully. "Yes,” he said.

Kevin gently traced over Andrew's temples and hair, smoothing down cowlicks and lightly massaging the hot skin of his forehead. Andrew's skin dragged a little against Kevin's fingertips. Kevin tried to keep the pressure even lighter, until he was just skimming over the feverish flesh. Andrew relaxed further into Kevin's body. His right hand was under Neil's pillow, probably brushing against a sheathed knife, and his left was holding steady to Kevin's hip. Kevin eased back, pulling his legs back up on the bed and adjusting both of them so they were more comfortable. Andrew sighed against him, and quickly fell back asleep.

Kevin kept up the gentle massage long after Andrew's breathing went deep and slow. He kept it up when the air in the apartment changed, and he knew even through the closed bedroom door that Neil was finally home. It couldn't have been more than an hour. By then, Kevin's legs were asleep and he was reeling from the unprecedented trust Andrew had given so freely. Kevin's fingers traced patterns across Andrew's skin while the door clicked and then swung open. It happened much more silently than Kevin ever managed. 

The bedroom had been almost pitch black, with only the faintest light from outside slipping past the edges of the curtains, so Kevin flinched at the hall light. He promptly froze again, hoping Andrew was too deeply asleep to feel it. Andrew shifted, but did not open his eyes. Kevin brushed his thumb over Andrew's eyebrow and then squinted at Neil, who stood in the doorway.

Neil's head was cocked slightly as he took them in, and something that was not quite a smile, was not quite a smirk hovered on his lips. Kevin wanted to flip him off, wanted to warn him to be quiet, and also wanted to quiz him on how he had kept the door from squeaking. He settled for raising one brow to ask if Neil had brought home dinner like he had promised. Neil smirked harder to say: 'Yes, obviously, but you're kind of stuck there, so I'm going to eat without you.' Kevin's nostrils flared as if to say: 'Fuck you, you only wish Andrew was curled up on your lap.' Neil's smirk softened to say, 'If I could slide in next to the two of you without waking him up, I would in a heartbeat.' 

Kevin and Neil were very good at talking without talking. 

Andrew made a soft sound that brought both Kevin and Neil’s attention to him. Neil’s smirking smile turned genuine. The set of his shoulders said, ‘I’ll be right back,’ and ‘the cats are trying to get in around me, so I’m going to close the door again.’ He slipped out of the room, leaving Kevin and Andrew in darkness.

Kevin wondered how he had managed to get this as his life.

* * *

Neil closed the bedroom door carefully on Kevin and Andrew, feeling enormously fond of the two men. It wasn’t often that Andrew demonstrated physical affection. Neil only wished that he had thought to take a few photos. With luck the two of them would still be wrapped up in each other when Neil returned, and he could take a few before Andrew realized what was happening.

Back in the kitchen, Neil topped off Sir and King’s food and water. By the time he finished putting away the groceries and abandoned gear, the takeout was cool. Neil reheated Andrew's soup and then took it and the bag of sandwiches back to the bedroom. The dim hallway light revealed that Kevin and Andrew were still cuddled up on the bed. Neil triumphantly used his cell phone to take a few photos.

Kevin just blinked at Neil. Neil took another picture of his confusion. 

Kevin rolled his eyes and then nodded toward the takeout. He raised an eyebrow.

Shrugging, Neil slipped his phone into his pocket. Kevin glanced pointedly down at Andrew.

Neil knew what he was thinking –‘Andrew’s sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him up’ – but it seemed unlikely that Andrew had eaten anything since he'd gotten home. 

"He needs to eat," Neil breathed. 

Kevin scowled and acquiesced. Neil flicked on the dresser lamp and sat down on the floor beside the bed as Andrew flailed awake. He would have felt a little bad about letting Kevin take a fist to the face, but Andrew was weak enough that it probably wouldn't even bruise. 

"Turn that damned light off,” Andrew half-growled, half-moaned. 

Neil ignored him and started to pull food out of the bag. "Time for dinner," he said. 

Kevin said, "I'm going to kill you." Neil didn’t know if he was talking to Andrew or himself. Given the fist to the face, it could be even be both.

Andrew struggled onto his side, and then sat up in bed. Kevin hovered close in case he needed help. It should have annoyed Andrew, but he felt only relief that someone would be there to catch him if he stumbled. That was probably because he was still mostly asleep, so Andrew dismissed the thought. Instead, he focused his attention on the soups and sandwiches Neil was arranging on the floor. There was enough food to feed an army, or a trio of starving Exy players. Andrew made a face and considered curling back up in Kevin's lap. 

"I won't eat any of that," Andrew said.

It was kind of nice to watch Kevin literally bite his tongue to keep from speaking. Kevin did not even look at Andrew, just stared balefully down at Neil. 

Neil rolled his eyes. "There's a double chocolate éclair fudge cake in the fridge if you're still hungry after you eat the soup," he said, skipping straight to bribery. 

Andrew wanted to hold out for cake, immediately, but the longer he sat upright, the hungrier and more terrible he felt. He held his hand out for the soup. Neil passed up the styrofoam container and a spoon. 

Even if he was eating chicken soup with more vegetables than noodles, watching Kevin wilt with relief as Andrew started to eat his soup was rather gratifying. Kevin was just so fun to wind up, and it was so easy. 

Neil snickered, "Good to see you aren't feeling completely terrible." 

Andrew smiled as sharply as he could while shoveling spoonfuls of soup into his mouth. 

Kevin and Neil demolished all the sandwiches. Andrew ate almost all of the soup. Neil ended up having to do all the cleanup, because as soon as Andrew managed to dispose of the remains of his dinner onto the nightstand, he dropped back into Kevin’s lap and refused to move. Andrew brought two of the sugary graham crackers with him. Kevin got a lap full of crumbs, in addition to his lap full of Andrew.

After putting away the leftovers and throwing away the trash, Neil pressed two ibuprofen into Andrew’s hand. He asked, "Yes or no?" 

Andrew mumbled "yes" directly into Kevin's abs. 

Neil pet Andrew's hair the same way Kevin had been doing earlier, and then kissed Andrew's temple. Andrew almost smiled, but sleep was calling, and he wanted to hear what she had to say. 

Kevin settled against the headboard as best he could with Andrew cuddled against him. His eyes traced Andrew's face, getting caught on the slow, steady breathing and full curving lower lip. Neil reached out and ran his hand through Kevin's hair. 

"You're still in your jeans, aren't you?" Neil asked quietly. 

Kevin shrugged slightly. "I'm not about to ask him to move," he admitted.

Neil leaned in and brushed a kiss to the corner of Kevin's mouth. "You're going to wind up sick, yourself," he taunted. 

Kevin scowled. "It's too late," he said. "Once he went down, there is no way we won't get sick. Go take the vitamins. With any luck we’ll only be out for a day." 

Neil nodded. "I'll get you some water, too. You want me to get you a book? Headphones?" 

Kevin shook his head. "I'll probably just go to sleep." 

"Sounds good to me," Neil said, and left to get the vitamins and a water bottle for Kevin. Thoughtfully, he grabbed a few of the extra pillows lying around to make Kevin a little more comfortable on the bed, and then disappeared into the bathroom to change for bed. 

Climbing into bed was a bad idea, since there was a better than even chance that it would wake Andrew. Neil could have, and maybe should have, slept in the spare room. Andrew and Kevin would certainly have said so. But Kevin was half asleep against his mound of pillows, and Andrew was snoring, so Neil dropped a few blankets and Andrew's pillow on the floor to sleep on. Then Neil remembered that he had seen Kevin's phone on the kitchen counter. That was too far for them to hear their morning alarm. He got out of his makeshift bed to do an electronics charging roundup. Kevin stared at him like he was an idiot while he grabbed their three phones and Kevin's tablet and plugged them all in. Neil ignored the look. Kevin would appreciate it in the morning, no matter how judgmental he was tonight. 

The blankets were soft and the pillow smelled like Andrew when Neil slid back under the covers. It was barely 8:30. Neil was not really tired, but the night was still and complete. The only sound was their breathing, and that was soothing. The tension that had wound Neil's shoulders tight throughout the day faded. Neil let his thoughts drift. During his years on the run, Neil or his mother had gotten sick a bare handful of times. It always meant extra stress, and pain, and more than one close call had been because Neil or his mother had slipped up while ill. There was a jagged scar across Neil’s left hip from the weekend both Neil and his Mom had had the flu. This quiet darkness was better. Andrew and Kevin were always better than those memories. Neil pressed his nose into Andrew's pillow and let the scent lead him into sleep.

* * *

Sometime later, Neil woke when Kevin kicked him gently in the side. Neil hit him back automatically, and sat up slowly, stiff from the floor. Night still shrouded the room.

"Everything ok?" Neil asked, voice barely more than a breath in the dark. 

Kevin nodded, but Andrew was the one that spoke. 

"Get into bed, asshole," Andrew croaked. He reached out and shoved at Kevin's shoulder. "Asshole," he repeated, making sure they knew he was talking about both of them. There was no reason for Neil to be sleeping on the floor.

Kevin mumbled something too soft to hear properly, but Andrew's attention was focused on Neil. Neil staggered to his feet, and then crawled over Kevin and Andrew to flop down on the mattress. He stole back his pillow from the mountain propping Kevin up. Andrew yanked the covers back over them. He was still using Kevin's lap as a mattress, but Kevin did not seem to mind, so Andrew didn't think too much about it. 

Neil reached out, hand hovering over Andrew's shoulder. He said, "Yes or no," and yawned. 

Andrew said, "Yes," and Neil's hand settled on his shoulder. Andrew fell back asleep almost immediately. 

Neil stayed awake a little longer in the dark, gazing as best he could up into Kevin's eyes. Kevin was blinking more and more frequently, but he smiled down at Neil, and at some moment between the smile and softness in Kevin's face, Neil fell asleep, as well. 

In the morning, Andrew woke up with a blinding headache, a full body ache that no amount of ibuprofen would fix, and the knowledge that he had slept with someone at his back. If Kevin or Neil noticed, neither of them mentioned it, and the next night Andrew made sure he was back on the inside of the bed. 

It had been nice, having Neil at his back. Andrew wasn't ready to think about it.


	2. Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil always has been a drama queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the thanks to Syd, who betaed again. She really is amazing. Any further mistakes are mine, she did her best!

Three nights later, Neil woke up at two-thirty in the morning in a fight with the bed sheets. He was so hot his fingers were shaking. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get out of the nest of bedding and bodies around him. He was trapped. He was _trapped_ and the need to escape was like salt in his veins. He wasn’t supposed to run anymore.

He was pinned, and hot, and trembling.

“Stop moving,” Andrew hissed.

Neil froze, a whimper in his throat.

Andrew freed Neil with short, precise movements. The sheets were unceremoniously untangled from Neil’s elbows and neck and knees. As soon as he could, Neil pushed at Kevin until he rolled off the end of the bed, and then followed him down to the floor. He landed on Kevin’s stomach.

“Fucker,” Kevin grunted. “What the hell?” He almost sounded like he was awake.

Neil got to his feet and staggered away from the bed. Andrew was studying him from the bed, and Kevin was confused on the ground, but Neil was more interested in the thermostat. Had one of them jacked the heat up? Was there a problem with the furnace?

“Get back in bed,” Andrew said to both of them from where he knelt on the mattress.

Neil shook his head. “I think the heat’s broken,” he said.

Kevin levered himself upright and rubbed his eyes. “Did you knock me off the bed?”

Andrew felt his headache, the one that had mostly disappeared, flare back up. He rubbed his temples and bit back the words he wanted to say. Neil was obviously not firing on all cylinders. It took Kevin an hour to wake up on a good morning. Even Andrew was still groggy. After three days of bedrest, most of Andrew’s symptoms were gone, except for a slight tightness in his chest and ice cream still tasting terrible. With another full night’s sleep, Andrew had been confident he could return to work. Now Neil was interrupting his night, and --

A large pale hand was stuck in front of his face. “Ok to touch?” Kevin asked.

There was a time and a place to tell Kevin ‘no.’ This was not it. He said, “Fine. Yes.”

Kevin promptly shoved him flat on the bed. “You need sleep. I’ll grab Neil and take him to the spare room.”

Neil’s pillow was still warm, and the indent from Neil’s head was exactly the right size and shape for Andrew to lie comfortably. “Make sure he drinks a glass of water,” he said. “An ibuprofen, too. Here’s your chance, Dr. Oz. Give him one of your Echinacea pills.” He should get up and take care of Neil himself. He should toss Kevin and Neil back into bed, rather than let them sleep in another room because of misplaced coddling. He should just to go back to sleep; he could taste his dreams on the night air.

“Andrew?” Neil called.

Andrew’s head whipped back up to look at Neil. Neil was a dark shade among darker shadows in the doorway, his silhouette trembling and unsure.

“Where’s my mother?” Neil asked.

Andrew shot out of bed. Kevin did not try to stop him. The two of them were at Neil’s side in the space of a single breath. Kevin flicked on the overhead light, and Andrew grabbed the back of Neil’s neck to drag him in close. The sudden brightness caused all of them to wince, but it illuminated the brilliant red of Neil’s cheeks. His scars were angry and fresh with fever. His eyes were dulled to grey. The skin underneath Andrew’s hands was burning hot. Neil swayed back and forth on his feet.

“Fuck,” said Kevin.

Neil blinked at them. His eyes crossed as he tried to look up and down at the same time.

Andrew tightened his grip. “Guest room,” he said. “Kevin, bring us water, Tylenol, and my phone.” He marched Neil out the door and down the hall to the spare bedroom. Neil was trembling in his arms, and Andrew almost had to carry him to keep Neil from collapsing onto the floor. It would have been smarter to stay in their own room. Andrew needed to start thinking, because no one else was going to.

There were actually two spare bedrooms in the apartment, but one was less bedroom and more office. Kevin had a small library of books in there, and Neil half a dozen photo albums. Andrew kept a set of knives taped to the underside of the desk. He bypassed that room, and took Neil into the bedroom that had, for a grand total of three weeks, been Kevin’s. It had a slightly better mattress than the office, and much better blinds.

Neil stumbled along at Andrew’s side. He was silent and shaking under Andrew’s fingers. His eyes darted restlessly around, but did not focus on anything. It was a relief to finally drop Neil onto the bed; supporting most of his weight reawakened the ache in Andrew’s bones.

Neil bounced when he hit the mattress. He scrambled back from Andrew, his eyes full of Nathaniel’s despair. “How much longer is this going to take?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Lie down, junkie,” he told Neil. “Try not to think too much.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Neil said. His eyes skittered from Andrew to the door, catching on Kevin as he walked in with his hands full.

“Do you know where you are?” Kevin asked, handing Andrew pills, water, and phone.

“Baltimore,” Nathaniel said, like the words were being dragged from his unwilling lips. Andrew and Kevin both flinched. Andrew could feel Kevin’s eyes boring holes in his skull, but Andrew was too worried about Nathaniel’s appearance to look back.

“No,” Kevin said. “We’re in Denver. Colorado, remember? Baltimore was years ago.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “You could have just let us go,” he said.

“Neil!” Andrew barked.

Nathaniel’s eyes sharpened for a moment, and then he was rolling back off the bed, away from both of them. Andrew snarled and reached for him, but he couldn’t drop the glass of water for fear of it shattering on the floor. Nathaniel dove to the left. He was angling to get around Kevin to the door. Fever made him clumsy and not quite fast enough. Kevin caught him up in his arms. Nathaniel kicked at Kevin’s knee, but missed.

Kevin murmured something low and soothing as he carted Nathaniel to the bed. Nathaniel tried to headbutt Kevin, and then to bite, but Kevin had a foot of height, sixty pounds of muscle, and the advantage of health. The two of them went down on the bed and stayed there.

Helpless fury had flooded Andrew’s veins. He put the water and pills as far from the struggling pair as possible so his hands would be free if Kevin needed help. The very idea of pinning Neil down made Andrew want to lash out: at Kevin, for forcing Nathaniel down; at Neil, for letting the broken pieces of his past out to wreck havoc; at Goettner, for getting all of them sick in the first place. No matter Andrew’s feeling, though, they could not let a feverish Nathaniel run.

“You sold me. I’m not your problem anymore,” Nathaniel said, his voice filled with fear, and pain, and grief, and more fear.

If Nathaniel started begging them, they were going to the hospital, no matter how any of them felt about it. Even as he thought it, Andrew knew he was lying to himself. Neil would be more anxious at a hospital, and Andrew would be forced to keep his distance. This had to be better.

Kevin made a low, soothing sound. He spoke in Irish, _“You aren’t a problem, heart.”_

The language was a good choice: Kevin did not know Russian; that had been before he became part of Neil and Andrew. French, Spanish, and German were tied up in Jean and college and running. Irish was Kevin’s gift to them, the tongue he barely remembered his mother speaking. It was also the only language Kevin ever used endearments in. Neil and Andrew did not have soft names for each other, but Kevin would call them _a chuisle, a rúnsearc,_ or something equally appalling when he broke out Irish Gaelic.

Neil said, “Kevin?” like he did not dare to hope.

Andrew relaxed infinitesimally. “ _We’re both here, idiot,”_ Andrew said, also in Irish. _“Put Nathaniel away and wake up.”_

“You can’t be here,” Nathaniel pleaded. “I kept you safe.”

 _“We’re in Denver,”_ Kevin said in Irish. _“We’re in our apartment. You’ve got a fever.”_

Andrew forced himself to turn away from them. Kevin could handle this. Andrew needed to make a call.

* * *

Andrew stood in the hallway outside the spare room, half listening to the quiet sounds of Kevin and Nathaniel talking, and half listening to the phone ring against his ear. Kevin was flat on his back on the bed. Nathaniel was sprawled on top of him.

His call went to voicemail. Andrew redialed. The phone began to ring again.

Kevin had Nathaniel’s arms pinned to his side. He was talking sweet and gentle. It looked awkward as hell, but Kevin was used to breaking himself into pieces for people he cared about much less than Neil. This was nothing.

Aaron answered the phone with a snarled, “Someone better be dying.”

“You will be,” Andrew responded automatically, “if you make this take any longer than it needs to.”

“Andrew.” The sound of cloth rustling and mattress springs creaking painted a picture of Aaron climbing out of bed. “I take it you didn’t die from your cold?”

“It isn’t a cold,” Andrew said. “Neil is hallucinating in the spare bedroom.”

Aaron snorted. “Did you seriously wake me up at three in the morning because of Neil Josten?”

Andrew clenched his jaw. He needed a cigarette. “He thinks he’s in Baltimore.”

Aaron was silent. Even his breathing had stopped.

“He’s begging Kevin to run before his father arrives,” Andrew continued.

“Shut up.” Aaron growled. “You should take him to the hospital.”

“No. What else?”

Aaron sighed. “What’s his temperature?”

Andrew went back to their bedroom and grabbed the thermometer. Nathaniel was crying when Andrew returned. Kevin was whispering soothing nonsense. Andrew grabbed Nathaniel’s trembling chin and forced him to turn his head until Andrew could take his temperature. Nathaniel moaned something unintelligible, and Andrew counted the seconds until the thermometer clicked and he could step away. Neil pressed back into Kevin.

“He’s here,” Nathaniel breathed.

Kevin and Andrew shared hard looks. They did not know exactly what Nathaniel was seeing, but they could guess. None of their guesses were comforting.

“103.4,” Andrew told Aaron.

“How long has it been over 103?” Andrew asked.

“He was fine when he went to bed last night.” Andrew reached out and carded his fingers through Kevin’s hair. He wanted to touch Nathaniel, as well, to let Neil use Andrew’s strength to fight through this, but he would not force contact now. Not when Nathaniel was out of his mind with fever.

Kevin leaned in to Andrew’s hand. _“Andrew’s here, Neil. You’re Neil, not Nathaniel, you’re starting striker for the Denver Paladins.”_

Aaron said, “Try a lukewarm bath. Not cold, you’ll shock his system. Make him drink cool tea and Gatorade. If you can’t bring it down to under 103, and he’s still hallucinating, take him to the doctor in the morning.”

Andrew made a soft sound of acknowledgement.

“Alternate Tylenol and ibuprofen every couple hours,” Aaron said. “And don’t fucking call me in an emergency. You have a team doctor, use him.” Aaron hung up.

Andrew shoved his phone in the pocket of his pajama pants. “I’m going to run a bath,” he told Kevin.

Kevin nodded, but he was mostly focused on Nathaniel. For a moment, Neil’s disconnect was catching, and Andrew was dizzy with the thought of trusting Neil to Kevin, of trusting Kevin’s strength to hold, of being able to walk away from these two and know that they would be there when he returned. He had slept between the two of them, safe and sound, and now he let Kevin protect Neil for him.

When Andrew was 6, the foster home he had been staying in did not allow pets. Andrew had found a litter of abandoned newborn kittens, and smuggled them into the house, anyway. He spent a week stealing formula, feeding them every couple hours, and tucking hot water bottles around their bed to keep them warm. When one of his foster siblings found out, Andrew had been relieved he would have someone to help. The kittens were tossed outside the next morning. Andrew was moved to another home as soon as the bruising healed. The foster sibling got extra dessert.

The thoughts were too much for 3:30 in the morning. Andrew went to the master bathroom and turned on the taps, careful with the temperature, and ached from his and Neil’s fevers alike.

* * *

Kevin held Neil down and tried not to think about the way Neil was begging him to let go. It did not work. Neil was pleading for his eyes and hands and legs, and Kevin could avoid neither the words nor the tears.

He could almost feel Jean’s wrists in his hands.

“Please wake up,” Kevin whispered.

Neil thrashed a little. “Mom,” he said. “Mom, please wake up.”

Kevin swallowed. _“Close your eyes,”_ he said, the Irish heavy on his tongue. _“Close your eyes for three breaths; it’ll be over then.”_

He closed his own eyes and pretended it was true.

He opened them two breaths later because Neil had gone limp above him. Kevin’s heart leapt into his throat, and his words croaked out around it.

“Neil?”

Neil shifted on top of Kevin. “Kevin?” he asked.

 _“I’m here, heart,”_ Kevin said in Irish.

 _“You sap,”_ Neil responded in the same language. _“Why are you holding me down?”_

 _“You’ve been hallucinating,”_ Kevin said.

Neil shuddered with such visceral horror that Kevin regretted his bluntness. Kevin did not let him go, because he did not trust the fever, but he loosened his hold enough that Neil could turn in his arms and look down at him. The glassy sheen of Neil’s eyes was a little softer. The scars on Neil’s cheeks were a little whiter. Kevin risked reaching out one hand to touch Neil’s cheek. It was a mistake.

Neil’s eyes fluttered closed and he curled closer to Kevin for a moment. Then he pulled free of Kevin’s grip and socked him in the gut. Kevin lost his air and his grip on Neil. He heard Neil scramble off the bed and toward the door. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself after Neil. He checked Neil into the hallway wall, and then, apologizing, wrestled Neil back onto the bed.

 _“I swear to you, you are safe, you are home, no one is going to hurt you,”_ Kevin repeated again and again. _“Neil, please come back to us.”_

Neil bit Kevin’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

Kevin did not flinch.

“Having trouble?” Andrew called from the doorway, where Kevin could not see him.

“It’s almost like Neil knows how to fight,” Kevin said. “Bath ready?”

“Yes,” Andrew said. He failed to elaborate further.

Kevin asked, “Do we just dump him in --” and then switched to Irish to scold, _“Neil, love, don’t bite me again, I’m getting the sheets all bloody.”_

Curiously, Andrew asked, “Did he really bite you?”

Still in Irish, Kevin said, _“Fuck you,”_ and managed to get himself to his feet. He kept Neil wrapped tight in his harms.

Andrew’s eyes were tense but amused as he stood in the doorway and watched Kevin stagger around with Neil. He made no move to help.

Kevin said, “Fuck you,” in English this time. He followed Andrew into the master bath. In his arms, Neil suddenly went limp. Kevin gripped him tighter. _“Alright?”_ he asked, as kindly as he could.

Neil spoke in Irish this time: _“Kevin? I don’t feel very well,”_ and promptly vomited all over both of them.

Kevin stared down at Neil, and then over at Andrew. Andrew was very clearly torn between laughing and worrying.

Choosing to worry for him, Kevin said to Andrew, “You didn’t have any stomach symptoms.” Remembering his conversation with Aaron several days before, he added, “No one has had stomach symptoms. Aaron said it was a head cold.”

Andrew shrugged. “Neil’s always been a dramatic shit.” His nose wrinkled. “You two should shower before you climb in that bath.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Neil said. “I hate this. It’s fucking hot in here. Turn off the furnace before I start melting.”

“You’re sick, idiot,” Andrew told Neil. “And of course you’re turning it into an Ordeal.”

Neil whined angrily under his breath. Kevin wanted to dump him in the shower and get under the cascading water as soon as possible, but Andrew fiddled with the water temperature and the faucet head for what felt like hours before deeming it okay. Neil sagged against Kevin piteously when Kevin put him back on his feet. He was only half aware of the world, but more Neil than he had been since waking.

Neil blinked when Kevin started to tug his stained pajama bottoms down. “I’m not … no,” he said. “I don’t want to.”

Outside the shower stall, Andrew went still.

Kevin moved his hands up immediately. “I’m just getting your dirty clothes off,” he said, gentle again. “Just a shower, and maybe a soak. Nothing else.”

Neil stared up at him. “I don’t like telling you ‘no,” he confessed.

“We will not be having sex with you,” Andrew said, sticking his head into the stall with them. Misting droplets of water immediately clung to his hair and eyelashes. “Let Kevin clean you up.”

Neil shivered. “I’m cold.”

“Can Kevin put an arm around you?” Andrew asked.

Neil bit his lip. “Yes,” he said, after a moment. “You said I’m sick?”

Kevin slid his arm carefully around Neil, and Neil leaned into him.

Andrew watched them both carefully. “You threw up all over Kevin,” he said.

Neil looked at Andrew, and then at Kevin. He reached out a hand, fingers hovering over the bloody wound on Kevin’s shoulder.

“I bit you,” Neil said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kevin told him. “Let’s just focus on getting your fever down.”

Neil still looked troubled, but he let Kevin finish stripping him down. When Andrew was satisfied that Neil was not going to have a panic attack, he returned to the tub. He turned on the faucet to add a little hot water to the cooling bath. When it was lukewarm again, he sat on the lip of the tub to catch his breath.

Kevin left their clothes in a sopping pile in one corner of the shower, and then scrubbed Neil and himself down. The wound on his shoulder hurt, and the shower washed away the blood before it could congeal, but it was a relatively minor injury. Kevin would take care of it once Neil was settled.

After they were both clean, Andrew pulled Neil out of the shower and into the tub with him. Neil protested the temperature and fought to stand. Andrew grumbled his displeasure and held Neil tightly to keep him from climbing right back out.

“It’s so cold,” Neil whined.

“No, it’s fine,” Andrew said. “You have a fever. We need to bring it down before you manage to do something even more ridiculous than bite Kevin. Kevin, go clean that before you bleed all over the floor.”

Kevin rolled his eyes, but went to do as instructed.

Neil frowned. “Did I really bite him?”

Andrew tugged Neil deeper into the tub, arms wrapping around Neil’s shoulders. “Yes,” he said. “Stop thinking about it.”

Neil settled his head against Andrew’s shoulder and tried not to shiver. “I remember … my father. He’s dead?”

“Yes,” Andrew said.

“It’s so hard to think,” Neil admitted.

“Then don’t,” Andrew told him.

“I’m tired,” Neil said.

“Go to sleep,” Andrew said. “Trust me. Do you think I would let you drown?”

Neil started to shake his head, but it made his skull and neck hurt. Andrew seemed to get the point, anyway, because he pressed a kiss to Neil’s temple. Neil dozed in his arms while Andrew watched Kevin clean and bandage his shoulder. Now that Neil was coherent, the furious energy had left them. Kevin was obviously flagging. The exhausting hour and remaining illness dragged Andrew’s own eyelids down.

Andrew would stay awake. He would not fall asleep with Neil in his arms in two feet of water, even if it would be so easy.

Neil’s hair was curling in the humidity, and it tickled Andrew’s nose. Andrew pushed the red strands away to keep himself from sneezing. Neil sighed and mumbled something that might have been any one of half a dozen languages. The words were too slurred for Andrew to understand. Andrew turned his head so he could kiss Neil’s cheek. Neil’s skin was hot and soft against his lips.

Kevin silently cleaned up the blood and vomit and dirty clothes. He disappeared for long moments that made Andrew curl a little closer to Neil. They should get out of the tub, Andrew thought, and retake Neil’s temperature. Aaron had told him to alternate pills for Neil. He should -- would -- get out of the tub. He’d do so in just a moment, when Kevin came back. Until then, it would be okay if Andrew hummed softly, snatches of songs he only knew because Nicky was a terribly annoying person. Neil turned a little, as though trying to hear better, but Andrew refused to allow him to do more than burrow close to Andrew’s shoulder.

“Andrew,” Kevin said, an interminable amount of time later.

Andrew pulled himself out of his half awake state to look up at Kevin.

Kevin was bare-chested and wearing track shorts, hair damp and curling across his forehead. It made his eyes look greener than usual. Andrew wanted to drown him for making Andrew want him.

When Kevin reached out and scooped Neil out of the bath with enviable grace, Andrew let him. Fatigue made Kevin look like he was 20 again. Every second was designed to foster his goal. Step one: pull Neil out of the tub. Step two: wrap Neil in a towel. Step three, set Neil on the sink counter. Step four: dry Neil gently. Addendum: do not wake Neil up. Kevin was dressed to get soaked again, Andrew realized, and that almost made him want to smile.

“You going to sit in there all night?” Kevin asked, running the towel over Neil’s hair. Neil’s eyelids fluttered, but he stayed asleep. Kevin’s plan was working.

Andrew tilted his head back. “I’m expecting similar services,” he said to the ceiling.

Kevin was too tired to snap back. He just grunted and finished drying Neil off. Andrew looked back to see Kevin pulling a t-shirt down over Neil’s head, and then boxers and bright orange track pants up his legs. Neil’s forehead rested against Kevin’s chest, and Kevin was smiling down at him.

They were such disgusting, sappy, Exy-obsessed junkies. Andrew closed his eyes against the sight. Neil whined and Andrew could not keep himself from peeking between his lashes to watch Kevin lift Neil carefully into his arms. They disappeared into the bedroom. When Kevin returned a few minutes later, the deep furrow between his brows had smoothed out.

“Fever’s down to 101.6,” Kevin said.

Muscles Andrew had not even known were tense relaxed, leaving Andrew boneless with relief in tepid bathwater. Neil was such a nuisance, even -- especially -- when out of his mind with fever. If they could keep his fever from spiking again, maybe they could keep the drama and blood to a minimum.

Andrew looked expectantly up at Kevin. Kevin did not pretend to misunderstand, just leaned in and scooped Andrew up and out of the bath.

Step one, Andrew thought, and then Kevin wrapped a towel around him. Andrew smiled into the terrycloth.

Step two.

* * *

Neil was too hot and crabby to sleep between them, so Andrew slept in the middle, again. Kevin lay against Andrew’s back with his out flung palm cradling Neil’s cheek. Sometime during the night, Neil’s fingers tangled with Andrew’s and they held hands until morning. When Neil’s dreams turned dark and Nathaniel hovered on the edge, protection and fear and anger in one undesired package, they held on to Neil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!** Seriously, bad medical practices abound. If you or someone you know is suffering from a fever with confusion, immediately call a doctor at the very least. A hospital is a safe bet, especially if the fever is high (over 103). This is _not_ a manual on how to care for someone who is ill, no matter the title.


	3. Kevin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Andrew thought Neil was annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Syd, my darling beta, thank you so much for all your hard work. I know you've been extremely busy, and you still made time to look this over. You are a wonderful person. If this is any good at all, it's because Syd kept harping on my tendency to overuse words :)

When Kevin finally succumbed to illness, it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as Andrew’s stunt in goal or as alarming as Neil’s delusions. Instead, a couple hours before scrimmage ended, Kevin realized he had a headache. Half the team was out sick, half of those left were still recovering, and the scrimmage was going terribly. Kevin estimated he had about two hours before he started shaking. That would be long enough. He promptly set about rallying the four other people on his team for a late comeback.

His team managed to win, but it was more a testament to their superior endurance than any superior play.

The walk back to the locker room was too chilly for right after practice. Kevin downed two water bottles and a Gatorade before forcing himself into a lukewarm shower that did nothing for his sore muscles. Exhaustion was setting in. It was a good thing all that was between him and his bed was a twenty minute drive. Once coat, hat, scarf, and gloves were all accounted for, Kevin texted Andrew that he was on his way home.

Andrew responded by demanding he pick up dinner from the Indian restaurant mostly on the way home.

Kevin didn’t have the energy to argue. At least this way, none of them would have to cook. Kevin stuck his phone in his pocket and dragged himself and his gear to the car to drive home.

* * *

Kevin had forgotten dinner.

There was no disputing the fact: Kevin was standing in the hallway outside their apartment, gear bag over one shoulder, hands bereft of any kind of takeout. For a moment, Neil wondered if Kevin had found out that Andrew had ordered five servings of dessert and a side of biryani, and thrown it all out. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Kevin had been actively avoiding fights with Andrew this week, but everyone had a breaking point. Then Neil actually looked at Kevin.

Kevin was pale, listless, and too quiet. He wasn’t swaying on his feet, but his eyes were glazed and he was standing in that particular way that kept himself upright with the least amount of effort.

“You look like shit,” Neil said, when it became obvious Kevin wasn’t going to greet him.

Kevin grunted and let his duffel fall off his shoulder to land on their feet. “Take that inside,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He turned, and headed toward the elevator.

Neil reached out and grabbed Kevin’s wrist. “Did you leave the food in the car? Andrew can go get it.” 

Between Kevin’s many layers, and the remains of his own fever, there was no way Neil could tell for sure if Kevin was running hot. Neil tugged Kevin’s arm to bring him close. They had both forgotten the giant bag of exy equipment in the hallway. Kevin tripped over the duffel and tried to steady himself on Neil. Unfortunately, Neil was also unsteady. The two of them crashed to the ground with all the grace of a cartoon piano dropped off a balcony.

Neil found himself sprawled across Kevin’s chest. He must have hit his head on something, because his low-grade headache was now a high-grade annoyance. He said, “Ow.”

Kevin groaned.

Neil patted Kevin’s shoulder reassuringly. Kevin’s wool coat was scratchy under his palm. “Headache?” Neil asked.

Kevin only covered his eyes in response. Neil frowned down at him. Kevin did not attempt to push Neil off of his chest or get up. Neil’s own muscles were spaghetti; he had no idea if he could pull Kevin to his feet if Kevin was too sick to move himself. Where was Andrew?

“If only our neighbors could see us now,” Andrew said, startling both Neil and Kevin. “Get out of the hallway, idiots.”

Neil rolled off Kevin and to his feet. “Someone’s vitamin regimen failed miserably,” he announced.

A hint of a grin tightened Andrew’s jaw, but he said nothing. Kevin wasn’t the only one trying to keep things calm this week. Andrew stepped over Kevin’s gear bag, Kevin’s keys, and Kevin’s long legs to stand over Kevin himself. Neil grabbed up the duffel and the keys and took them inside. He left Kevin to Andrew. Cloth rustled, someone grunted, and then they were following Neil into the apartment.

“You should have left early,” Andrew said quietly, one of Kevin’s arms looped around his shoulder.

Neil dropped Kevin’s keys on the counter and then lugged the duffel over to the closet.

“It didn’t get bad until just a few minutes ago,” Kevin replied. “I didn’t stop for dinner.” There was a lot of apology in his tone. 

Neil wrestled with the bag and the closet. It would have been easier if he had been a foot taller, like some people he knew.

“Good,” Andrew told him. “You aren’t as dumb as you look.”

Kevin made a noncommittal hum. “How’s Neil’s fever been?”

Neil managed to get the gear closet door closed. He turned around to face Andrew and Kevin, prepared to call Kevin out on talking about him literally behind his back, but his breath caught in his throat before he could speak. Andrew was fussing over Kevin. He was carefully unwrapping Kevin’s scarf and peeling off Kevin’s gloves. Kevin had his small true smile on as he submitted to Andrew’s ministrations.

“Hasn’t gone over 101 degrees all day,” Andrew said, starting on Kevin’s coat buttons. “You look like you have, though.”

“Fever’s spike at night,” Kevin said, because that had become very apparent this past week. Also, Aaron had sent them pamphlets in hopes that they would stop calling him.

“It’s not even 5,” Neil said, crossing the room to stand with them. Andrew pushed Kevin’s coat off his shoulders.

“I’m going to bed,” Kevin promised.

Neil rolled his eyes. “You were planning on going back out for the food,” he accused. 

Andrew smacked Kevin in the shoulder, right over the healing bite. Kevin yelped and tried to step back, almost tripping over his coat. His balance was terrible, Neil thought, as he and Andrew yanked Kevin steady.

“I take it back,” Andrew said. “You’re just as much of an idiot as that one.” He jerked his chin at Neil.

“Hey!” Neil objected.

“Bed, both of you,” Andrew declared, and turned Kevin around so he could be marched toward the bedroom. Neil trailed after them.

Neil was in sweats and a t-shirt already, so he climbed right into bed and snuggled into the blankets to wait for Kevin. Andrew continued to strip Kevin. His fierce scowl was offset by his gentle hands. Neil felt warm watching them, filled with light and something fragile. There was something very beautiful about Andrew being attentive, and Kevin being quiet. Neil considered taking a picture.

Once Kevin was in clean pajamas, he crawled in next to Neil before Andrew could throw him into bed. Neil laid his head on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin sighed and closed his eyes.

“Temperature, first,” Neil said.

“I’m not that sick, Neil,” Kevin said, but seemed unsurprised when Andrew stuck the thermometer in his ear.

“Not yet,” Neil informed him. “Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“Probably,” Kevin admitted.

“101.1,” Andrew told them. “I’m going to go pick up our food before they give it away. Stay in bed. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Neil threw an arm over Kevin’s chest. “Nothing but sleep,” he promised.

Kevin did not say anything. Neil wondered if he was already asleep.

Andrew left, and Neil tried to doze. He had already wasted most of the day napping, though, and now Neil was bored. Counting the freckles on Kevin’s face only served as a distraction until the light outside grew too dark to see by. His phone, recovered from under the pillows, gave access to some of the Exy news he’d been missing the last few days, but the backlight grated against his headache. The pressure in his head slowly increased until Neil had to turn his face into the pillows to escape the burning light. He peeked at the time, and found only 15 minutes had passed. Neil shoved his phone back under the pillows.

“What’s wrong?” Kevin asked, eyes still shut and the words slow on his tongue.

“I’m just bored,” Neil said. He stroked Kevin’s bicep with his thumb. Kevin was tactile. Neil had learned to like that.

Kevin made a soft sound. “You seem much better,” he said.

“I haven’t bitten anyone today,” Neil agreed. He frowned down at Kevin’s shoulder. “Turn the light on, would you?”

Kevin groaned. “Neil--”

Neil crawled on top of Kevin to turn the on light himself. His own headache exploded like a stadium after a goal, and Kevin let out a filthy string of curses and tried to bury himself in the pillows. Neil yanked him out.

“Kevin, you’re covered in splotches,” Neil said.

It was hard to glare at someone and keep your eyes closed at the same time. Kevin made a valiant attempt at it, anyway. He growled, “What the fuck, Neil?”

Neil pointed at the rash covering Kevin’s shoulder. Raised red welts peaked out from under the sleeves on his t-shirt, spilling down his arms almost to his hands. When Neil looked up into Kevin’s face, he found them on Kevin’s collar and neck as well.

Neil said, “It’s on your face!”

Kevin looked down at his arms. “Oh,” he said. “It’s just a rash.”

Neil almost hit him. “Don’t move,” he ordered, and sat down on Kevin’s stomach to keep him still. He fished out his phone. It took a bit to find Aaron’s contact information, as someone had renamed the entry ‘future bro-in-law.’

Kevin grunted under Neil’s weight. “It’s normal,” he tried to convince Neil.

Number dialed, Neil put his phone to his ear and glowered at Kevin.

“I am going to kill every single one of you,” Aaron said in lieu of a greeting.

“Kevin’s covered in a rash,” Neil blurted out. “It’s on his face. He’s got a fever, too, and a sore throat, and a headache, and muscle aches.”

Aaron said, “Emergency room.”

Neil blinked. “What?”

“Rash and fever in an adult mean emergency room, Neil,” Aaron explained slowly. “Get off the fucking ph--”

Kevin stole the phone. “It’s completely normal for me to get a rash with a fever.”

Neil grabbed the phone back. “He’s being difficult,” he said. “Andrew’s got the car. Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“No,” Aaron snorted. “Send me a picture.”

“Of Kevin covered in a rash?” Neil asked.

“So I can see if he’s right, and this is nothing to worry about,” Aaron clarified.

Neil’s brow furrowed. “Two seconds ago you were telling me to take him to the hospital,” he said. “Now it might not be serious?”

“Take the fucking picture, Neil,” Aaron snapped.

Neil took the picture. Kevin was usually pretty photogenic, but between the rash, his dull eyes, and the grey cast to his skin, he looked a bit like a zombie. Neil’s stomach hurt. If this was what Andrew and Kevin had gone through when Neil was delusional a few nights ago, no wonder they were still treating him like glass.

“Well?” Neil demanded, once the picture was sent.

“Give me a moment,” Aaron said. “Jesus. Don’t let any of his fans see this. They’ll go into mourning and probably rip you and Andrew to pieces.”

Neil made a mental note to consider, at some point, that Aaron seemed to hate them less. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Aaron said. “Alright, you can probably hold off on the emergency room, as long as he stays lucid, drinks lots of fluids, and the rash doesn’t turn painful. If he complains of a stiff neck _at all_ , go to the hospital.”

“Are you sure?” Neil batted Kevin’s hands away when Kevin made another try for the phone.

With exaggerated patience, Aaron said: “Neil, I’m not there. Kevin’s 300 times more reliable on his level of health than you are, but if you’re concerned, take him to the fucking hospital and stop calling me for answers I can’t give you.”

Neil expected him to hang up, but Aaron stayed on the line. Neil looked down at Kevin, ignoring his threatening eyes while he tried to evaluate how sick Kevin truly was.

“Alright, we’ll stay here,” he informed both Kevin and Aaron. “Thanks, Aaron.”

Aaron grunted, and hung up.

“I told you it was nothing,” Kevin said as soon as Neil put the phone down.

“I will bite you again,” Neil stated. “We’ll see what Andrew says.”

Kevin took one of Neil’s hands in his own, his face softening. “Hey,” he said. “It’s really nothing.”

Neil tangled their fingers together and held tight. “We’ll see what Andrew says,” he repeated.

* * *

The Indian restaurant was mobbed, so Andrew didn’t get back home for well over an hour. Part of the delay was Andrew’s fault: he’d added a bowl of lentil soup for Kevin to his order. Andrew usually enjoyed messing with Kevin over food, but it wouldn’t be as much fun when Kevin was too sick to snarl back.

The minutes ticked by and apprehension set in. Andrew knew that there was no reason to worry. Neil had been fine all day. It was only 90 minutes. Kevin had seemed coherent enough. They weren’t children. He could trust them to keep each other alive for an hour while he got dinner.

He still jogged into the building and took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

The tight feeling in Andrew’s gut would not go away until he saw Neil and Kevin, so he took the bag of takeout straight to the bedroom. The light was on already. They were probably fine, Andrew reminded himself. He entered the room and looked critically at the bed.

The cats were curled up on Andrew’s half of the bed, and they blinked slowly at Andrew when they saw him. Neil was sprawled out next to them. His head was pillowed on Kevin’s arm, and he was frowning darkly at the ceiling. Kevin’s back was to Andrew, his body curved around Neil’s like a puzzle piece. Andrew put the food on the dresser and stalked closer.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

Neil sat up. Kevin rolled over to face him. Andrew saw what the problem was.

“What,” Andrew enunciated carefully, “are those?”

The cats, showing better sense than Neil or Kevin, jumped up at his tone and sauntered out of the room. 

“Hives,” Kevin said.

“A rash,” Neil said.

“It’s normal.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “I have a fever, I get a rash.”

“What did Aaron say?” Andrew asked Neil.

Neil sat cross-legged on the bed, chin in hands, elbows on knees. He said, “Keep an eye on it. If he starts acting weird, take him to a hospital. Also, if we’re worried, take him to a hospital.”

Kevin growled. “I’m not stupid,” he said, pushing himself upright. “If there was cause for concern, I’d already _be_ in the hospital.” He started to stand, and Andrew and Neil simultaneously shoved him back into bed. Neil sprawled over his chest to keep him down, and Andrew just stared menacingly at him. Finally, Kevin huffed an exasperated breath and turned his face away. There were red blotches all over his throat and face.

Andrew put his fingertips on an unblemished part of Kevin’s cheek. “Do they hurt?” he asked.

“No.” Kevin begrudged answering. “They’ll start itching in a day or so. They go away a couple days after the fever breaks."

Neil said, “If they start to hurt, we need to go to the hospital.”

“Would you stop talking about the hospital?” Kevin cried, exasperated. “It’s normal. This has happened before, and it won’t hurt me.”

Neil pouted.

Andrew said, “When was the last time you actually were sick?”

Kevin paused to consider. While he waited for an answer, Andrew took off his coat and boots. The coat was draped over a chair in the corner, but the boots were wet, and couldn’t stay on the rug. After his shoes were tossed into the tiled bathroom, he went back to the dresser to unpack dinner. Andrew handed the biryani and a fork to Neil, set aside three of the desserts for himself, and took the soup over to Kevin. Kevin started to eat absently, still calculating.

“I think you broke him,” Neil remarked as the silence stretched. Andrew leaned against the dresser and opened his box of takeout.

“Shut your mouth,” Kevin said. “When I was 16, I had mono. I was sick for a couple weeks.”

Neil put his fork down. “You were 16 the last time this happened? Kevin, kids get rashes with a fever, not adults.”

Andrew swallowed his milk ball. “Kevin,” he said, no emotion in his voice. Kevin looked at him, his own face going still and unreadable. “Do we need to get a doctor to look at you?”

Neil remained quiet while he watched the two of them watch each other. Kevin’s eyes were intent. Andrew was a solid foundation, nothing in his face or manner to impact Kevin’s decisions. So often Kevin and Andrew pushed and pulled each other, their own needs and desires constantly demanding too much or too little of the other. In this moment, there was none of that conflict. There was only the expectation of an answer, and the buildup before it.

“No,” Kevin said, sure as the mountains.

Andrew nodded. They both relaxed, and all three of them turned back to dinner.

“Mono at 16? That’s remarkably plebeian,” opined Neil.

Kevin shrugged. “The entire team came down with it during the spring season. Riko didn’t,” he added. “He was convinced we were exaggerating how bad it was.”

“Of course he did,” Neil sneered. He shifted enough to press his knee against Kevin’s thigh. “Fucking dick.”

Andrew agreed, but there was no need to say something so obvious. Instead, he started on his second serving, watching Kevin go thoughtful on the bed. 

“Tetsugi was furious,” Kevin said. “We got 50 lashes if we were sick. Everyone had to practice, and no one was allowed to miss any games. When Michael’s spleen ruptured, doctors were called in and we were all put on bed rest. Jean and I were lucky; since we weren’t on the team, we were able to recover completely before going back on court.”

“The Ravens didn’t even make the top 3 that year,” Neil informed them. “There were a lot of rumors. People were really upset when you weren’t on the sidelines with Riko. Didn’t they say that you were in Ireland?”

“You have a better memory for that than I do,” Kevin said, a flicker of amusement on his face.

“Stalker,” Andrew accused.

Neil shrugged. “I still have a few articles about it.”

“I didn’t want to know that,” Kevin said.

Neil snickered. “You started playing differently, after you returned to court.”

Kevin looked at Neil for a long moment. “I outscored Riko three times before we went on bed rest,” he said, as though that explained it. He wasn’t wrong. It was no secret that Kevin had spent most of his teenage years making sure he was not _quite_ as good as Riko Moriyama. Kevin never spoke about it directly, though, because he had residual Stockholm syndrome for the Moriyamas, and Andrew and Neil hated their guts.

Neil smirked triumphantly, pulling Andrew out of his thoughts. “Best in the world,” he boasted “Riko must have left you bleeding, for that.”

“Yes,” Kevin said, and nothing more.

Neil poked at his rice with his fork. “I never had mono, but there were a couple times my mom or I got sick when we were running,” he said. “We got the flu when I was 12. We were in Quebec. Mom was having trouble switching out her accent, so I was doing most of the talking.” His face was blank as he offered up his own pain in exchange for a piece of Kevin’s past. It was a terrible look on him; Andrew disliked it when he could not read every single thing Neil was thinking in his eyes.

Andrew knew this story, but it was Kevin’s first time hearing it. Kevin put his empty soup bowl on the bedside table and lay down. He pressed his cheek against Neil’s thigh. It took Neil a moment to realize Kevin had put all his focus and intensity into watching him. Once he realized it, he couldn’t help but smile. He set his dinner to the side, and moved Kevin’s head into his lap so he could play with his hair.

“It was January, and we were on our way to a new town. I don’t remember who I was going to be, there. I was already sick, but Mom was okay, so we left town anyway. She was worried because someone had asked if we had moved to Canada from the continent.” Neil tried to blow his bangs out of his eyes, but the red strands fell right back into his face. He could have tucked his hair behind his ears, but he didn’t want to stop touching Kevin.

The rest of dessert would have to wait. Andrew left his trash on the dresser and found a hair elastic. He climbed onto the bed and knelt behind Neil to tame his hair with the rubber band. The red locks were a mess from Neil sleeping all day, and Andrew had to comb out the snarls with his fingers. 

“Thanks,” Neil said, once his hair was tied out of his face.

Andrew draped himself over Neil’s back. He wrapped one arm around Neil’s hips, and splayed his free hand over Kevin’s chest. Kevin’s gaze met his for a warm moment, and then flicked back to Neil.

“What happened after that?” Kevin asked.

Neil relaxed into Andrew’s embrace. “We were at a gas station when Mom collapsed. I was asleep in the back seat, and no one noticed me when they put her into ambulance and towed the car. I woke up a few hours later. It was freezing. I fell out of the car, and the officer on duty saw me and ran over. I threw up all over him.”

“Glad to know it’s nothing personal,” Kevin drawled.

Neil’s expressionless face crumbled into familiar mobility as he stuck his tongue out at Kevin. “Asshole.” He tugged Kevin’s hair to reprimand him.

A corner of Kevin’s mouth quirked up. “Better watch out, Andrew, it might become a pattern.”

“I’ll leave that duty to you,” Andrew said magnanimously.

Kevin actually laughed.

Neil’s face went bright with happiness at the sound. “I ended up in a children’s hospital across town from Mom. I woke up a few days later and the nurses let me know where my mom was. I planned to escape after sunset. It turned out one of my dad’s men was waiting for the same thing before they came in and got me.”

Kevin’s smile vanished. Andrew rubbed his thumb soothingly across Kevin’s collar bone.

“I was still pretty out of it,” Neil continued, “But not that out of it. I lost him in traffic and cut straight over to the other hospital. There was a guy in Mom’s hospital room, but I was enough of a distraction for Mom to get his gun and shoot him. Mom had to carry me out, where –”

“Because she shot you,” Andrew interrupted.

Neil scowled.

Kevin blinked. “She shot you?”

Neil sighed. “She was sick, too,” he said. “The guy was using me as a shield. I was dangling a foot off the ground with his arm across my chest and his hand around my neck. He told her to drop the gun or he’d crush my throat. Mom shot him instead, but her hands were shaking.”

Kevin reached up and touched where Andrew’s hand covered Neil’s hip. “This scar,” he said.

Neil nodded. Kevin put his hand down, and waited for Neil to go on.

It was pointless to get angry, but Andrew’s blood burned in his veins every time Neil talked about his mother. He did not know how Kevin could hear that Mary shot Neil without fury overtaking him. Neil had come to the Foxes an empty shell. The only thing inside him had been fear. It had taken years to put together who Neil-the-person was. It was good that Mary was dead, because Andrew would have killed her before he let her near her son again. How Kevin could let her abuse go was incomprehensible.

Of course, Kevin’s mother had gifted her son to a monster. Having a mother who shot you to save your life probably was a step up, really.

Neil said, “We made it to the parking lot in time to meet up with the guy I’d lost earlier. I shot him, and we took off in that car. That was a bad winter.”

There was more to it than that. Neil could tell them about how that was the first time he’d killed someone, but not that last, or how Mom had found most of the stuff from their original car in the SUV they stole. That had terrified her. He could tell them about the days they drove south for as long as they could before Mom started falling asleep at the wheel. He could talk about learning to drive on icy roads, the stress of getting new IDs, the even more exorbitant than usual price, not being able to wake Mom up one night, driving until the gas light came on, cold and weakness in his bones for the next six months. But Andrew already knew all that, and Kevin was fading fast. He would tell Kevin more some other time.

Neil shook his head to clear the memory. “Andrew’s turn, now.” 

He could feel Andrew glaring at the back of his neck. Andrew hated talking about himself almost as much as Neil loved hearing him talk about himself.

Kevin shifted his gaze to Andrew. “Have you ever been sick before? Aaron thought maybe not.”

Andrew continued to glower.

Neil said, “We could just go to bed,” letting Andrew off the hook even though he was not tired. It was nice to feel awake after the sun went down. It was after 6, and Neil was pretty sure he was up to watching a game before bed.

“Fine,” Andrew capitulated. “I got mono at 13. One of the girls at school thought I was dangerous and kissed me. Cass realized I was sick right away, and put me to bed for three weeks.”

“What did you do to the girl?” Kevin asked.

Andrew barred his teeth. “She never touched me again,” he said cryptically.

“That’s Andrew,” Neil said, “Making girls cry since middle school.”

“High school,” Andrew corrected.

Kevin murmured something, but it was quiet and lost in Neil teasing Andrew. Neil would have missed it entirely, but Andrew looked down at Kevin.

“What?” Andrew asked.

“That was when you were with the Spears,” Kevin said. “What did Drake do?” His eyes were a mirrored lake, gazing up at Andrew over Neil’s shoulder.

Neil had decided against asking for more information once he realized Andrew would have been living with Cass at the time. Andrew’s past was only revealed in bite-sized chunks for good reason. It was universally horrible. They had already received more than expected. It was alright that Kevin had pushed, though, because Andrew smirked down at him. Andrew had been waiting for the question.

“Drake was unaware I was infected until too late. He spent two weeks pretending he did not have mono, and another six in bed, too tired to move,” Andrew told them.

Neil snorted, trying to hide his giggles, and then gave up and laughed aloud. “So none of your classmates was really stupid enough to touch you,” he said. “You wanted to get sick.”

Andrew’s smirk was savage. “Yes.” The word was weighted down with all the things he could not say. That little bit of revenge had cost him in the long run. It was worth it. He hated and feared Drake. Cass had been a million incomprehensible hopes. It was pointless to dwell. There was no part of him that regretted his past actions. He put that weight back where it belonged, in the past, and looked down at Neil at Kevin. He said, “Yes or no?” to both of them.

They both said ‘yes’ without hesitating. It made the residual ache in Andrew’s chest ache act up.

Andrew pressed his lips against Neil’s shoulder, and then leaned around Neil to kiss Kevin’s forehead. “Go to bed,” he isntructed, the words gritty.

Kevin dragged himself out of Neil’s lap. “Alright,” he agreed, and dropped his head onto Neil’s pillow.

Neil crawled off the bed. “I’ve got a couple things to do, first,” he said. He collected the empty containers and leftovers. “Stay here?” He turned wide blue eyes on Andrew.

“I’ll take care of that,” Andrew argued, starting to get up.

Neil shook his head. “Keep an eye on Kevin.”

“It’s fucking normal.” Kevin’s voice was muffled by the pillows.

Andrew studied Neil’s face, realizing that Neil was going to go stir crazy if he wasn’t given a bit of space. He nodded agreement to Neil, and then glanced down at Kevin. “Stay that way.”

Kevin would have flipped him off, but he was too tired.

Neil left the two of them alone, kicking the door close behind him since his hands were full. Andrew propped himself up against the headboard. Kevin’s eyes were closed, and the rash looked angrier than it had when he’d come home. He’d take Kevin’s temperature in another hour or so, and make him drink some water.

“You’re staring,” Kevin rasped. He rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. It surprised Andrew; he had thought Kevin was already dead to the world.

“Your rash is worse,” Andrew said.

“It’s normal,” Kevin repeated.

“So you keep saying.” Andrew was unconvinced. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off Kevin’s forehead. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Kevin shook his head, and regretted aggravating his headache. “No more promises.”

“This one’s easy,” Andrew cajoled. “You don’t get any worse, and I won’t take you to the hospital.”

“Andrew,” Kevin said dryly. “This is going to last for another few days. I can’t promise that. But you won’t need to take me to a hospital. This is just a bad cold.”

Neil’s experience begged to differ. “Promise,” Andrew ordered.

Kevin stared at him for a long time. “Alright,” he finally said. “I promise.”

Andrew pulled Kevin against him so he could rest his cheek on Kevin’s dark hair. “Don’t you dare break that promise.”

Kevin leaned his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “Okay”.

Andrew knew he was holding on too tight, but Kevil liked physical contact. It would be okay.

Two hours later, Neil came back in, sleepy eyed and yawning. He raised a brow at Kevin sprawled across Andrew. “Déjà vu,” Neil murmured, remembering walking in to see Andrew curled up in Kevin’s lap a few days before. “Is he still okay?”

“Yes,” Andrew said. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Yes.” Neil crawled in on Andrew’s other side. “You good? We can switch places.”

Andrew shook his head. “No. This is fine.”

Neil smiled at him, his easy smile, without edges or pain. “ _Pulse_ ,” he said in Irish, “ _You really are just as soft as he is._ ”

Surprise only slowed Andrew’s tongue for a moment. “ _Maybe we all are,_ ” he replied in the same tongue. He couldn’t bring himself to call Neil _pulse_ , or _heart_ , or _secret treasure_ , but that was okay. Cradled between Neil and Kevin, he thought one day, he might.

* * *

Kevin woke in the morning with no fever, no rash, and the barest hint of stuffed nose. Neil, his temperature still slightly elevated, and Andrew, a lingering cough still in his chest, called Aaron one more time. Aaron hung up on them two sentences into the conversation.

Kevin said, “My vitamin regimen did _not_ fail,” but he made them apology pancakes anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Just to reiterate** , don't try any of this at home. Rashes + fevers in adults can indicate a lot of really horrible, life threatening illnesses, so if you happen to come down with those symptoms -- go see your doctor.
> 
> This is done! Thank you so much for all your support, I'm really amazed at how many people gave kudos and comments. I really loved writing this :) You're a really wonderful fandom!


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